


nothing more than core and stem

by lovehaunts



Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies), Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Apples, M/M, Missing Scene, Trees, before and now, pipe-weed, sleepy Hobbits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehaunts/pseuds/lovehaunts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin sleeps; Merry remembers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing more than core and stem

When Pippin begins to topple over for the fifth time, Merry guides him from the Entmoot for some rest. Merry settles on a nice clearing not too far from Treebeard and the rest of the Ents, but far enough that their booming voices blend with, rather than dominate, the other sounds of the forest. Merry prepares the sleeping area quickly. From the corner of his eye, he can see Pippin starting to nod off against a tree, and he'd hate having to wake him just to lie down.

Merry leads Pippin to the makeshift bed of cloaks. Merry places one of the cloaks over Pippin, and Pippin grabs his wrist, pulling Merry down. Merry lies beside him and strokes Pippin's hair until his breathing deepens. Merry gently removes the slack fingers from his wrist and rises to his hands and knees. He backs away quietly before standing.

Merry takes off his coat and stretches, his bones saying with cracks and pops what his muscles already had with soreness and stiffness: for all his experience in the area of climbing trees, sitting on one, or an Ent, for a prolonged time was an altogether different story. Early on, he found the trees in Buckland most useful in dire times, such as when needing to flee from yapping dogs or relatives or Brandy Hall cooks brandishing large wooden spoons. As he grew a little older and stronger, the trees provided Merry a way in which to amuse himself by challenging Everard Took and Fatty Bolger to climbing contests -- which he always won until Pippin started participating. But despite being a practiced tree climber, when it comes to sitting on a tree, Merry's experience consists of exactly one tree and one Ent, and while Treebeard is a most gracious host, he isn't exactly a comfortable one. The tree, however, the tree had been comfortable, more comfortable than a bed made entirely of down.

Folding his coat, he recalls an autumn three years past, an autumn spent in Tuckborough amongst relations. His thoughts focus on a particular afternoon, when he had taken a walk through one of the orchards, plucking red, ripe apples right off the trees as he went. The stroll was very relaxing, the apples were at their peak of deliciousness, and Merry was bored out of his mind. He'd lost Pippin shortly after luncheon, when Pippin had suddenly hightailed it out of the parlor. Moments later, Pervinca had marched in, an angry flush painting her freckled face, and asked in a composed manner where her brother had run off to. Biting sharply at the inside of his cheek to prevent a smile, Merry had shrugged and done his best to look innocent. Pervinca's eyes had narrowed and with a sigh and a turn on her heel, she had stormed out, her curls bouncing hastily against the back of her lavender and jade bodice.

Merry picked another apple, wishing that he'd remembered to grab his pipe and some pipe-weed before setting out to look for Pippin. Of course, he had expected Pippin to be easier to find than he was turning out to be, so he hadn't thought there would be a need to alleviate the boredom that was reaching all new heights. He took a bite from the apple, his crunch loud in the silence of the orchard. He decided to make his way back to Great Smials. Judging by the state of ire in which Pervinca had been, Pippin would not have returned yet, but at least there Merry would be able to smoke and perhaps talk with Uncle Paladin or Aunt Eglantine. When Pippin did show up -- which would undoubtedly happen sometime before the supper bell rang -- Merry would rightly criticize the poor hosting practice of leaving guests to idle away their afternoons alone. He would lead Pippin through the long hallways, a sharp eye on the lookout for Pervinca, and inform him that such rudeness was a most unbecoming trait for someone who would one day be Thain. Upon opening the door to Pippin's bedchamber, he would reassure Pippin that there were several ways to make up for such neglect and thoughtlessness. Shutting and locking the door behind them, Merry would state his willingness to enlighten Pippin with the knowledge of those ways personally.

Yes, that sounds like an excellent plan. Merry smiled and bit into the apple.

Before Merry was able to select which activities he wanted Pippin's enlightenment to consist of, his name was called from the direction of the solitary oak that stood tall and old and twisted-branched on the outskirts of the orchard. Grinning around the piece of apple in his mouth, Merry walked over to the oak and found his cousin perched on a wide branch some six feet above the ground.

"Hullo, Pippin," Merry said. "I see I have found you."

"No, I found you," Pippin pointed out, punctuating the emphasis with a nod.

Merry had to give him that one. "And just how long ago did you find me?"

"Oh, near on an hour, perhaps. I figured that I'd better get your attention before you ended up eating the entire crop," Pippin said, legs swinging in the air.

'Near on an hour'! For almost an hour Merry had been bored out of his wits while Pippin had sat here watching him, and oh, was that Pippin's pipe he saw on the bough as well? Merry folded his arms. For the first time in his life, he felt a great swell of empathy towards Pippin's sisters, who were often the ones gifted with the bulk of Pippin's mischievous behavior, but did not find it as entertaining as Merry did. Or usually did. With thoughts of 'sisters' and 'mischievous behavior' on his mind, Merry found himself still to be smiling -- although he was sure it wasn't an entirely nice smile -- and asked, "What have you done to Pervinca now?"

Ignoring Merry's question, Pippin smiled and stretched an arm down for him. Shaking his head and holding one hand up in a halting gesture, Merry continued munching on his apple, which proved to be a most difficult task as Pippin's sighing and eye rolling made Merry's smile grow twofold. When the apple was nothing more than core and stem, Merry tossed it aside and began to climb, using Pippin's hand as welcomed, though unnecessary, support.

Leaning against the trunk of the tree, Merry let out an exaggerated moan. "I'm becoming too old for this kind of thing."

Pippin scooted closer. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck. "Maybe a bit more tree climbing would do you some good," he said and laughed, poking at the soft flesh of Merry's belly that had grown softer and fleshier in the months since Pippin's last visit to Buckland.

Merry scrunched his nose in offense before chuckling and grasping the hand prodding his stomach, holding it still against his pale blue weskit. He ran his thumb over the palm and pressed down. He smiled without teeth. "Maybe."

Gallantly trying to suppress a smile, Pippin moved even closer to Merry and said, "You could have saved me at least a bite -- or two -- of the apple, it being from my own orchard and all." His smile broke through when Merry lifted an eyebrow. "Well," he continued, "it will be mine. Someday."

Merry tilted his head towards the apple trees. He glanced at them before focusing back on Pippin, noting that Pippin had used the space of the glance to shift closer yet again. "There are plenty of apples out there, Pip. Why don't you go--" he began but had neither chance nor breath to finish as Pippin's warm, smiling mouth stole both.

A few dozen kisses; one almost disastrous moment involving Merry's foot, Pippin's pipe clattering to the ground, and the near loss of balance as Pippin twisted to make sure the pipe remained intact (it had) and Merry twisted to make sure he remained with Pippin (he had); a dozen more kisses; and two soft exhalations later, Merry sat with a knot of bark digging into his lower back and the head of one already snoring Took pillowed on his chest. Merry tightened his hold in fear that Pippin might accidentally roll off the branch in sleep. He looked up into the canopy of leaves.

Cheerful singing stirred Merry from a comfortable nap some time later. When the fuzziness of half-dreams cleared enough for him to understand the words of the song, his boisterous laughter roused Pippin. Merry looked down to see Pervinca smiling up at them and singing the all too appropriate children's rhyme. He met her smile with his own. Between her hands, Pervinca clasped a handkerchief with what appeared to be raspberry preserve stains dotted on the otherwise pristinely white linen -- the answer to the question Merry had posed to Pippin hours before. Pippin's head burrowed into Merry's chest with a muffled groan. Merry cupped Pippin's jaw and lifted his face from its hiding place. Biting back a laugh but not a smile, he placed a kiss on Pippin's brow and remarked on how well matched Pippin's cheeks were with the sunset. He smothered Pippin's exasperated "Merry!" before it had fully left his mouth. The warmth grew under Merry's fingers, but Pippin did not try to pull away and instead made a contented sound that vibrated against Merry's lips. The song below them had abruptly ceased, only to be replaced with Pervinca's high, clear laughter.

Merry smiles at the memory, sitting with his legs crossed under each other next to Pippin's sleeping form. It's a very good memory, Merry decides, tapping the bowl of his empty pipe against his right knee. They ran out of pipe-weed days ago, but Merry took his pipe out earlier by habit. He places it back in the safety of his bag and rubs his hands over his face, wishing that they'd brought more pipe-weed, because pipe-weed is good for more than just reducing boredom. It is also good for easing pain. And for aiding sleep. And for shutting off your mind. In other words, it is good for all the things Merry seems incapable of doing at present.

He moans into his hands. Thinking about pipe-weed will not make it miraculously appear, he tells himself. Besides, he is not certain how their present company would react to even the smallest amount of flame and smoke, especially coming out of an object made from what once very well might have been a friend. Merry resolves to push out thoughts of everything and takes his place behind Pippin, facing both his cousin and the thick darkness of Fangorn Forest. He stuffs his coat under his head. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the aches, the pains, and the crush of fears about what may happen to the oak in Tuckborough, to Tuckborough itself, to Buckland, to the entire Shire and all that inhabits it if they do not succeed.

After what seems like hours, Merry hears the sound of cloth against cloth and his name being whispered. He lifts up his arm, letting Pippin shift and mold against him. Merry threads his fingers through Pippin's hair, and he drifts off to sleep with the low rumbling of Entish behind him and Pippin's soft mouth against his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to simplelyric for the beta.


End file.
